Novels by Strawberry 🍓

Her Pov:"Don't fucking touch me..." I hiss and his eyes darken so much they get just like the night.Dark... Unsettling...He tilts his head a little as a smirk takes over his face. A smirk is so dangerous. As he leans over me, his mouth reaches just to the shell of my ear as his hand squeezes my hands painfully."You..." His voice is low, a dark promise against my skin as his hand drifts up my thigh, slipping beneath the soft folds of my baby pink dress."Don't..." A breath catches in my throat as his fingers graze the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, teasing, lingering."Get to..." His lips ghost over the shell of my ear, warm and tantalizing, sending a shiver down my spine."Stop me."I try to push his hand away, my fingers wrapping around his wrist in a feeble attempt to resist, but he doesn’t yield. Instead, he presses me back, pinning me against the cold railing with nothing but his presence. A gasp escapes me—a sharp intake of breath, equal parts defiance and submission. His

Her Pov:The glass slips from my fingers.Time slows as it falls, spinning through the air before crashing against the marble floor. The sound of shattering fills the room—a sharp, piercing noise. But I don’t hear it. Not really. Not over the deafening silence that rings in my ears, the blood roaring through my veins. I don’t even feel the icy droplets of water splattering against my bare skin, the tiny shards slicing against my ankles.Because all I can see is them.She is draped against him, her body moulded to his like she was made to fit there. A short red dress clings to every soft curve, vibrant against her golden skin, her blonde hair cascading in waves over her shoulders. She is stunning. Effortless. Everything I am not. And her hands—those delicate, manicured fingers—are cradling his face with a familiarity that makes my stomach churn. Like she belongs there.And him?His lips.His lips are on hers.The breath in my lungs vanishes, like I’ve been punched in the chest, hard en

Her Pov:It has been two weeks since I found out I was addicted to drugs. Two whole weeks of living through a walking nightmare, clawing my way through withdrawal, fighting demons I never even knew existed inside me. The past fourteen days have been nothing short of hell. My body revolted against me, turning into a prison of agony and desperation. Sleepless nights melted into torturous days, where reality blurred into something grotesque. Nightmares didn't stay confined to sleep; they slithered into my waking moments, twisting shadows into monsters, whispering voices into my ears that weren’t there. My own mind betrayed me, playing tricks so cruel I lost touch with what was real and what wasn’t.I would wake up drenched in sweat, heart hammering against my ribs, gasping as if I had just surfaced from drowning. My skin burned and froze at the same time. My stomach twisted into knots of nausea that never truly left. Some days, the weakness was so severe that even the act of standing

His Pov:And I’m still paying her back.Even now.But here’s the truth I’ve been avoiding—the truth that stings like a blade pressed against my throat.I didn’t remember Aunt Rachel.I only remembered the debt.I buried her somewhere deep, in the same place I shoved all the emotions I refused to feel, all the memories too painful to hold. She was lost in the graveyard of everything I had to kill inside myself just to survive.But then—I look at her.At the woman sleeping just a few feet away. At the slow rise and fall of her chest, at the softness in her face now that she isn’t watching me with those sharp, searching eyes.And suddenly, she’s there.Aunt Rachel.Because of her.Because of the words she murmured so carelessly, not realizing they were pulling something out of me, I thought it was long dead. Not realizing how easily she’s stripping away the armour I’ve spent years building.She doesn’t even know.She has no fucking idea what she’s doing to me.She shifts restlessly, her

His Pov:My grip on the spoon tightens, the metal cool against my skin as I absorb her words. My gaze sharpens, studying her carefully, measuring the weight of what she’s just said."Even when she was sick most of the time?" My voice is quiet but firm, edged with something I can’t quite name—curiosity, disbelief, maybe even fear. I test the question as if pressing on a bruise, unsure if it will bring relief or pain.She meets my eyes, and for a moment, I think I see hesitation flicker there. But then she nods slowly, deliberately, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Yeah."I wait for her to elaborate, for her to fill the silence stretching between us, heavy with things unsaid. And then, as if sensing my need for more, she does."Even then. Because love isn’t about convenience," she murmurs, her voice steady, but there’s something raw beneath it, something real. "It isn’t about ease or perfection. It’s about staying. Even when it’s hard. Even when it hurts. It’s about choosing them,

Her Pov:"I have only ever cooked for you."The words roll off his tongue so smoothly, so effortlessly, yet their weight settles thick in the space between us, heavy like the scent of something simmering too long on the stove—rich, intoxicating, impossible to ignore.He doesn’t look at me, but he doesn’t have to. He knows I’m staring. Knows my lips have parted just slightly, knows my breath has hitched in my throat.He can feel it—the shift in the air, the way the room seems to shrink around us, pulling us into something close, something intimate. The way my fingers tighten around the edge of the counter, as if bracing myself for the impact of something I don’t quite understand.Because there is something here. Something unspoken, something undeniable. It coils between us like the heat from the stove, like the scent of charred sugar and slow-burning longing. My pulse hammers against my ribs, and still, he doesn’t look at me.But I know he feels it, too.And for the first time in what

Her Pov: I bite my lips as I almost feel my anger pouring out as he pulls out his fingers just before my release, leaving me in distress and restlessness. I look at him, shooting daggers to him, but that only widens the smirk on his face. And I might have to be sick in the head to find him fascinating at the moment as a little light from outside falls on his face. His dark hair styled in a beautiful way as a hair strand fell loose on his piercing grey eyes, the same grey eyes that were so deep..The little light created a shadow on his face making his cheekbones higher and sharper and his neatly trimmed jaw appear sharper than a fucking machatte. So alluring with his enchanting scent of wildflowers.... No... No... What the fuck am I thinking? It .. It has to be the hormones that this bastard left unsatisfied.. Yeah, it has to be it.. I can't be that desperate to find him appealing. Just as I managed to tear my gaze away from him, the car jerked to a sudden halt, sending me forward.

His Pov:I wait at the downstairs as I didn't have the courage to go upstairs. I still couldn't forget the way she cut the call off on me or the way she talked with me. She needs to be tamed, and I fear I would do in right there and then without caring about the party if I am in the room with her.The party is important for both of us. Pathan threw the party for us, not because he's happy with us being a couple, but because he's upset, to be precise, he hates that I married her. A girl with no family background, especially with no Russian roots. It took me years to win their trust and to be the third highest most powerful member of the Bratva even after my dad being one of them.It's not that I didn't know how pathan would react. But I simply just didn't care. All I cared about was making her mine. Claiming Liana as mine, even if that meant putting everything at stake for her. All the efforts of the past 10 to 12 years. I still need the bratva, so I do need to play my role carefully.

Her Pov:The rest of my day passed with me losing myself in the thoughts of what Elize said. Bratva... What does he do for the Bratva for him to be so higher up that even the police fear him? I don't have a phone as he took mine long ago to search for any information. I asked for news papers in case they have some news on it that can provide me with any information, but the mansions don't take newspapers, which is what the young maid told me.It was 5 pm of the evening as I was lying on my bed trying to sleep before he came. I don't want to face him and his twisted intentions again when there's a knock on the door. At first, I was solent thinking it had to be Edward, but then, no way in hell he would knock on the door before entering the room. So I tell the person on the door to come in as I sit up on the bed. It's elite with a phone in her hand as she rushes to me. "It is sir on call." And she hands it over to me before she leaves me in alone in the room with the phone. Hesitantly,

Her Pov:When I wake up, Edward is not in bed with me. Did he leave? I will be thankful to God if he did. At least I won't have to face him. And I will have my time to look for a way to escape.I got up from the bed, and with every of my step, I felt him within me. The pain from last night has not gone anywhere, to be precise. It settled deeper. I was about to get in the bathroom as I reached for the knob but it was pulled open before I did, and I clashed with a huge frame and was about to fall but an arm wrapped around my waist preventing me from falling.My arm wrapped around his neck on instinct as my amber eyes clashed with his grey eyes. A smirk on his face as he holds me in his arms. Those grey eyes are so intense as they are locked with my eyes. " Good morning, Printsessa. " Water dripping from his dark hair and a few droplets fall on my forehead, pulling me back to my senses. I get back on my feet as I try to push him back, but his hold on my waist is too firm.He seems to h

Her Pov: I don't know how long I was going around in circles in the peach black darkness, losing myself in it. Entirely. Until I felt someone touching me. The same touch with the same possessiveness, the same dominance, but something about this is different. It's a feather like touch moving down my body. And his touch alone pulled me out of the darkness like a magnet pulling metal towards it. I try to open my eyes slowly as my lids feel as heavy as stones. I open my eyes, and for a second, everything is in a blur before a face slowly gets visible to me in the dim lights of the room.Edward... He's kneeling beside me as he is wiping me up with a piece of cloth. He's so focused that he didn't even notice me waking up. His abs tensing with every move he makes as he's shirtless.His long eyelashes.. His dark hair fell on his eyes.. The harsh contour of his face in the dim light creates a shade on his face, making him appear more godly.But only I know what a monster he is. His godly lo

Her Pov: " Good girl.." He whispers his words dripping with dark satisfaction. My whole body shivers under his penetrating gaze. A tear leaves my eye from the insult I am feeling and also from how helpless I am beneath him. I want to pull away to fight him, but my body is paralysed between shame and something more disturbing. " Don't cry yet... Printsessa.. " He brushes the tear away from my cheek, his touch deceptively gentle, and I try to move my face away from his touch. His hand tightens around my jaw as he forces me to look at him... To look at how helpless I am. And how my fucking body is betraying me. My heated core, raising heartbeat and the pool of wetness between my thighs have failed me.. And he... He knows it... Of course he knows it. *** Sensitive content ahead**** He bends over my body and licks the sensitive skin under my ear, and starts to nibble on it. His one hand holding the tie of my hands while his other hand is going down from my jaw then to my neck and t